


Give Me Everything

by sigilsyndrome



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Barebacking, Blow Jobs, In Public, Incest, M/M, Rough Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-06
Updated: 2012-03-06
Packaged: 2017-11-01 14:28:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/357868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sigilsyndrome/pseuds/sigilsyndrome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's never wanted anything more in his life. It takes Sam to fulfill that wish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Me Everything

**Author's Note:**

> First thing I ever wrote for the fandom, hehe. Crossposted on Tumblr and LJ, unbeta'd. Feedback much appreciated!

  


Dean Winchester never wanted much, not really. His brother’s happiness had always been more important to him. It was why he had stayed behind all those years, and why he was so closed off to many long after. The way the two had grown up, Dean felt it was only right that Sam was his – no one else’s. He was more than his brother. That much was certain; when he tried to define it any other way, though, he was at a loss for words.  All he knew was that there was nothing he wanted more in the world than Sam.

Through the years, Dean would insist on doing every little thing to take care of his brother. He would tuck him into bed, kiss his boo-boos and all that better, all the things that a parent would do for a child. As they got older, he began to notice Sam in a way that confused him. How his shoulders were broadening, how his muscles moved invitingly under his skin even in the most innocent motions, how every peak and valley accentuated his chiseled torso. And his voice. When Sam was catching up to Dean in height, 2 or 3 inches away, his voice began to take a form that was just  _sinful_. The way Sam said his name, all rough and sweet, ‘ _Dean_ ’ rolling off his tongue and clinging to it at the same time… No one could blame him for what he was about to do.

_“Dean! Please…” Sam moaned as Dean nipped at his neck, running two fingers down the length of his spine, causing those delicious muscles to ripple beneath him. He smiled indulgently at the pleading sound of his brother’s voice as he rocked his hips into the sinuous curve of his ass. One hand continued down the slope of his back, massaging the supple flesh pressing against him so desperately, the other coming around Sam’s chest to tease and tug at his nipples._

  _“…D-dean! What are you-“_

_“Ssh, no questions from you. You like it, don’t you? You like when I play with you like this?” Dean continues to tease him, lips moving from his neck down to the buds, sucking and nipping until Sam whines and arches into him, back to chest. “Yeah, that’s it. I’ll take care of you.”_

_Sam presses back into him, grinds, whimpers in a way that is just absolute filth. His brother’s eyes go wide for a moment before they grow impossibly darker in lust. Oh, this is going to be good._   _“Seems you want something, huh?” Sam nods frantically, rocks back and forth over Dean’s cock. “Mm, n-nice start, but I have to hear you say everything, everything you want me to do to you.”_  
 _He doesn’t expect much, maybe just a whimpered ‘please’ because both Winchesters know Dean would give anything to Sam, planning to do it whether he’s ready to beg for it or not. So when Sam calls out his name, asks for his cock in the sweetest way, pleads to be fucked and filled until he passes out from pleasure while his older brother’s hands milk him to completion, Dean is fucking floored. God, he shudders, he could come from just this._

_“Ugh, Sammy. So hot, hungry for it, aren’t you?” When that’s confirmed with a nod, Dean finally frees his aching erection from its denim prison, applauding himself for his decision to go sans culottes* today. He presses his cock, already beginning to leak pre-come, up against Sam, then pulls away and sits up on the edge of the bed expectantly._

_Sam’s eyes are incredulous; he’s never done this before. If he’s honest to himself, though, there was nothing he wanted more at the moment than to get a taste of his brother’s manhood. Dean smirks as Sam quietly moves off the sheets, kneels between his legs, and just dives in. No hands, all mouth, up and down motions as his pretty lips stretch obscenely wide around his brother’s dick. The best part is, his eyes never leave Dean’s during this part. Sam’s coaxing him to give him more, give him all he has, and damn, there’s just no way Dean can say no._

_Hands fist in his hair and he’s wrenched off Dean and he glares upward, a furious flush on his face. Half of him just wants to taste more; the other is absolutely mortified by the split-second cling on his last suck that resisted mouth-parting-cock and the string of saliva that briefly kept them connected._

_Shit._

_A breathless Dean looks down at him over his member with a kind of lust that just kills him. It’s dirty and beautiful and he wants this moment to last forever, until suddenly all of his brother is shoved down his throat. Sam moans around him again and again as Dean fucks into his mouth without restraint, hips pistoning furiously. Dean’s absolutely wrecked, Sam can tell, by the way he whispers ‘Sammy’ over and over again. And he is too. How couldn’t he be, with his brother’s cock deep inside him, loving that he’s moving so fast that Sam can do nothing but take it?_

_Sam suddenly has an overwhelming need to taste Dean’s cum, and so he boldly moves his hands to his brother’s balls, rolls them in his hand as he swallows tentatively. And there it is – without any warning; Dean is filling him, continuing to thrust through his orgasm. Sam wants to swallow his brother’s load, but it’s too much, and when Dean finally lets go of his head there’s one last spurt that lands over his cheek and mouth. Dean wrenches Sam to his feet, presses his tongue against his mouth, demanding entrance. And Sam, again, lets him in._

Dean groans and works his hands faster up and down his length as he imagines this, wonders what it would taste like, his brother’s mouth all full with his semen. He thrusts up into his hands, picturing Sam spearing himself open on his cock. One last press into his slit and Dean’s coming, making an absolute mess of his hands and sheets. It’s not enough.

He wants more. He wants Sam. Dean fears the day when Sam finally brings home a girl, because he knows then he won’t be the only one there for Sam. He should be the only one to teach him this, to corrupt him. But he can’t force himself on his brother, because Sam doesn’t really want  _everything_  from him.

In the next room, Sam’s head is under the pillow. He’s trying (and failing) in drowning out the sounds Dean’s been sending through the paper-thin walls. Sam’s not doing it because he hates it; in fact, it’s too much of the opposite. It’s too overwhelming, hearing him make sounds like  _that_  over someone else. Even as he reaches down underneath his boxers to remedy the tent that’s formed, he curses. Curses himself for feeling this way, curses Dean too, for making him this way, making him lust after his outrageously handsome older brother who gives and gives and gives.

It’s a shame, Sam thinks, that what he really wants from Dean is the one thing he cannot have.  

\-------------------

It’s been a few years since that first time Dean jerked off to fantasies involving one Sam Winchester. He still hasn’t gotten the chance to make anything more of those thoughts, so Dean’s had to settle; his sexual history could probably fill a book. A few of those stories would end in slaps and kicks and fits of rage, an expected outcome if you’re going to call your little brother’s name during sex. He’s sure Sam has had his fair share of action by now, despite his awkwardness, looking the way he does. He’s thought time and time again about what he’s missed out on, regrets not claiming Sam for himself.

Now, Dean’s sitting with Sam at a grungy little bar downtown, flirting with the blonde bartending tonight. He’s learned to be careful, not to let his eyes wander to Sam’s mouth as he takes a swig of beer. His goddamn brother always puts his lips down far as he draws the alcohol in, and a screwed-up part of him wants to believe that the show is just for him. Dean knows he can’t control himself if he watches, so he continues to fix his eyes on the blonde, who’s still talking about, uh – well, who gives a fuck anyway – and gives her that signature Winchester smile.

He realizes Sam is glaring at him now. “ _What?_ ” Dean hisses. He turns back to the bartender, smiles apologetically. “Brother’s a  
dick, could you give me a moment?” She nods and bats her eyes coquettishly (Sam gags), brushing his fingers as she takes Dean’s empty glass and moves away to fill an order. Dean can’t help but inwardly smirk as he notices his brother’s frown grow at that.

“Her, really?” Sam says. “Thought you were done with girls like that.”

“We’re at a bar, Sam. This is what they’re like here. You said we should come.”

Sam can’t deny that, but he still looks miffed. “Look, I’m tired of cleaning after your mess in the morning, when all of a sudden they’re in love with you just because you can—” he coughs, realizing he’s about to overstep. “Anyway, they’re no good.”  
Dean wiggles his eyebrows. “Jealous?”  _Yes, Sam. You are._  He wants nothing more than for it to be true, for his brother to want to take the place of all those men and women who were Sam’s stand-ins to begin with. For a moment, he thinks he’s won as something flashes in Sam’s eyes, but then it’s gone and the seat is empty, leaving another one of those girls to try her hand on Dean. Literally.

Sam is brooding on the other end of the room now, and he’s being fought over by an over-muscled bouncer and some cougar with the worst breath he’s ever smelled. Not like Dean, whose scent is perfect no matter what (or who) he’s been doing  or where he’s been. Sam’s brought people home for the night like Dean does, sure, but he always finds fault with each and every prospect. There’s no one quite like Dean and the overwhelming want is an  ache in Sam’s heart.   
So when he eyes his older brother being pulled out the door that leads to a quiet alley, his emotions boil over. He’s had enough of this bullshit.

Sam finds Dean moments later and the bitch who took his seat is already on her knees, unzipping him. She giggles when she sees Sam’s face. “What, never seen one before?”

“Actually, I have.” His voice is dripping with sarcasm. “In fact, I’ve seen that one before. And it’s mine.” Dean chokes on his breath, partially at the implication and how crude Sam’s lines are, but mostly at the nonchalant conversation about his dick. When he says nothing, the girl huffs off with a screech and stomps back into the bar, leaving the two Winchesters alone. Dean is feeling particularly exposed, his pants pooled at his ankles, but something tells him he should leave them there.  
The moment he’s sure she’s gone Sam has his brother pinned to the brick wall, wrists held together in one hand above Dean’s head. “Dude,” Dean says weakly, sounding breathless and, thank god, hopelessly aroused. “Could you be any lamer? _I’ve seen that one before._  Really?”

Sam doesn’t even need to speak to shut him up, just grinds hard into him, his clothed erection sending jolts of electricity through Dean’s bare one and all over his body. They shudder together at the friction, but Sam makes sure his brother knows who is in control.

Sam’s an absolute animal, kicking apart his brother’s legs and wedging his thigh in between them as he presses his mouth against Dean’s. It’s hard to say if what Sam is doing can really be called kissing, what with the harsh suckling of his bottom lip, the bite that draws blood from it just to be licked away moments later, the raw aggression of Sam’s mouth moving hungrily over Dean’s.  Sam is definitely not asking permission as his tongue plays with his brother’s because somewhere, deep down, he’s realized he always had it.

When Dean finally starts to respond, hips thrusting forward eagerly, Sam smirks and pulls away. “We’re doing it my way, Dean. You got that?” Dean struggles uselessly against his brother’s grip, making a low, keening noise as he brushes against him, and Sam just grins wider. “You know how hard it was to listen to you all those nights without breaking down your door and claiming you for myself? God, you’re a whore, aren’t you, moaning so loud, telling them how good it is inside them or inside you. ”

_Oh god, here it is._ “Sam—“

“C’mon, Dean, call me  _Sammy_ , like you used to.” He’s not sure why it turns him on so much, to hear the nickname, but it does. Sam loosens his grip a little so that Dean can explore his body with one arm.

“Sammy,” Dean swallows thickly. “Sammy.”  He moves his free arm to Sam’s back, right in between the shoulder blades, fingers dancing downwards the way he had imagined it countless times. Boldly, Dean grips one asscheek and begins to massage him.

“Wanted this,” he’s beginning to find his voice, brain finally registering the situation. He wants control now, has to have it, needs Sam to know what Dean wants to give. “Wanted this so bad. You know how many times I jerked off to you riding me, working yourself on my cock, screaming my name?” He squeezes for emphasis, tries to lean into his brother even as he remains pinned to the wall. His hard length is leaking now, dampening Sam’s pants, which are pretty much mocking him just by staying on.

His head greets cold brick as his hair is wrenched back roughly. The contact is hard enough to hurt but not enough to flag his arousal, which only grows as Sam reminds him who decides where this hot mess of a situation is heading. Sam is staring intensely with lust-darkened eyes, but there’s softness around the edges. Sam’s tongue moves languidly and he traces the shell of his brother’s ear, all while whispering words of absolute filth. His free hand goes back to exploring, grasping hold of Dean’s cock. Sam teases his brother, fingers getting sticky-wet as they rub over the tip. Clever touches down the length, over the perineum, to that unholy ring of muscle.

There must be some defiance left in Dean’s expression even as his hole clenches in anticipation, because Sam is frowning as he traces his finger along his brother’s jaw, over Dean’s perfect mouth. “Just this once, Dean… Let me be the one to give you everything you need.”

And Dean moans his consent.

\----------

Maybe it’s just the sound of blood rushing south through his body, but Dean can barely hear himself think. He never was the type to lose control during sex, but damn, this is something more than that. It’s Sammy, here, kissing him roughly, nipping at his jaw, suckling down the curve of his neck…. His mind is wiped as thoroughly as his body has been explored, short-circuited at the brief contact with his entrance. Confident hands slid down his chest and torso and spine, up his arms, through his hair. Fingers traced his mouth, teased between his thighs, feather-light touches all over his skin, strokes working the length of his throbbing cock.  
Sam continues on this way until Dean feels himself breaking, can’t wait any longer. Sam has touched just about every inch of his skin above the surface and it was about fucking time he made his way inside. Dean knows his brother doesn’t want him to move, but God, he’s trembling at the effort just to stay in place; he doesn’t think he can manage it any longer as he watches Sam drop to his knees.

He realizes, then, that Sam gave him back control of his arms, probably some time ago, and that he’s been holding them above his head on his own, pinned up by the promise of more. The soreness of Dean’s muscles is nothing compared to the strange pulse of electricity that surges up to his fingertips at the realization he’s submitting to his little brother fully, opening himself up to let Sam do whatever he wants. He feels he should open himself up just a bit more and spreads his legs in obvious invitation.

His hips are gripped tightly as Sam forces him back, earning a pained groan out of Dean. “Just let me take care of you for once, alright?” It’s amazing how powerful Sam can sound even when his face is pressed against the underside of his older sibling’s arousal. He doesn’t wait for an answer, of course, just digs his nails into skin as pink flesh sweeps over the tip.

It’s clear Sam hasn’t done this before. There’s the sloppy-wet movement as Sam slicks Dean up and there’s the occasional graze of teeth that Dean doesn’t mind too much, but there’s also the curling of that pretty pink tongue getting intimately acquainted with his member. Sam has had at least as much time as his brother on the receiving end so he knows how good it feels  to have the wet appendage flattening against the main vein and following the trail the whole way along. From the way his brother his panting and shivering, hips stuttering against Sam’s firm grip, he figures he must be doing something right. Sam wonders if the other Winchester is just as talented – probably even better, with lips like that….

An insistent push against his zipper reminds him of his own arousal, and he frees himself with one hand, giving Dean a little room to thrust up into his mouth. He sucks hard as the length presses against the back of his throat and finds he enjoys the feeling. Sam is glad to let Dean use him for a bit and strokes his own dick in time with the short thrusts before he’s pulling off again, swiping at Dean’s sac and enjoying the muffled whine that follows as he rolls each side in his mouth briefly.

Activity seems to have picked up around them; across the street there’s drunken laughter and the sound of glass shattering, but Dean obviously hasn’t noticed because when Sam ducks his head further down to lick the outer ring of his entrance, he  _screams_. Sam chuckles at that, breath hot against the crevice of his brother’s body on the concrete. “Think you’ll have to be quieter if you wanna continue, baby.”

Dean just glares down, flush darkening on his freckled face, muttering ‘shut up’ and ‘don’t call me that, you stupid moose’ even as his cock pulses in response to Sam’s voice. Sam wets the pink ring of muscle, massaging Dean’s spread cheeks in his large hands.  He presses one finger in gently and shudders as he feels the hot clench as his digit enters alongside his tongue. Barely a minute passes before Sam manages to find his prostate and he presses both cruelly against it, Dean trying and failing hard to suppress his desperate moans.

“ _F-Fuck._ ” Dean shakes his head, gives up staying still and pliant. He clenches his inner muscles hard, coaxing Sam further in, practically trapping him there inside as he demands, “Just  _fuck_  me already.”

It takes an awful lot of effort for Sam to wrench himself away from between Dean’s thighs for even a moment, and not just because his tongue and finger were practically being held prisoner in that tight heat. He looks down at his brother skeptically as he stands up, moving a hand back down to grasp his cock for emphasis.

Part of him is worried that he’ll hurt Dean; the other half is screaming for him to just  _wreck_  his brother, fuck him so hard he won’t be able to walk straight for weeks. Judging by the way his brother’s eyes are following the lazy pumping movement of his hands and the way his mouth hangs slightly open in admiration, he’s already well on his way to ruin, though really, they’ve both crossed the line long ago. Then the bastard hooks one arm under his knee, moving one leg away from his body and exposing himself fully for his brother. The lighting is obviously dark but a lucky flash of light as something zooms past on the road gives Sam the full view of a Dean that’s almost too wanton for him to bear. He loses it, then, flips his brother over until he’s flush against the wall and lines the head of his leaking member up to the reddened hole.

“Let me hear you, ba- … Dean,” Sam whispers, “tell me what you want or I’ll stop right here.”

Dean grits his teeth together, has had enough of this waiting.  He rolls back again and again and again, the swell of his ass grinding on Sam’s arousal, trying to get him to move already. When Sam just lays his forehead against Dean’s neck and smirks against the base of his spine, he realizes the son of a bitch is serious. He curses a bit, something about having to give away his dignity when it was Sam who wanted to be the one to give in the first place. Then he starts talking.

“Okay, Sammy. Here’s what I want, you bastard - I want to feel you inside me. Want you to let me just  _take it_ , pressed up against the wall just like this, moaning for it.” He swallows, mouth running dry as he pictures it.

“And? What else, Dean?” Sam says, voice sounding almost foreign.

 “I… Please. Want you to thrust up into me, fuck me hard and deep until I can’t remember anything but your name. Wanna feel you as you come inside me, Sammy,  _please_. Just… just fuck me, damnit!”

He turns his head, eyes challenging his brother to laugh at how much of a slut he’s being and he’s glad Sam doesn’t. Instead, his younger brother presses his mouth against Dean’s hungrily, tangling themselves in each other and Dean can taste himself – not that he knew what he tasted like from experience, okay? – on the edge of Sam’s tongue.

Sam sort of wants to continue needling him, wants to see how far Dean is willing to go just to get Sam to split him open, but really he too has been waiting long enough for this. He obliges his brother’s wishes by nudging himself against the tight hole, pushing the head of his cock inside with deliberate slowness, his eyes fluttering shut. They both knew Dean would be stretched full like this, but it’s absolutely ridiculous, this, his brother tighter than any virgin he’s ever had. There’s no way in hell his brother is still a virgin himself, Sam thinks, but the idea that Dean’s never had anyone else but him inside sends a rush of pleasure through him.  “C’mon, Dean… can’t move like this…Open up for me.” His hands smooth down Dean’s sides, willing him to relax.

“Yeah, that’s it… that’s good.” Sam rewards him with another kiss, softer this time, as his brother finally gives in fully. He hums a little as Dean gets rid of the tension over his body and his fingers tingle ever-so-slightly as he feels the chiseled muscles of his abdomen go lax.

With Dean marginally looser now, Sam rocks his hips upward, sheathing himself fully in one movement, head bumping into his prostate along the way. Sam pulls out nearly all the way, groaning at the sensation of inner muscles clamping around him, resisting his outward movement, and slams back in again without warning.

Dean is  _burning_  as Sam enters him, body hot, insides hotter, any pain only adding to his arousal. When Sam thrusts in roughly again, splitting him open ruthlessly, he comes unexpectedly, biting down on his lip to muffle his cries as he spills himself all over his stomach, paints the alley with his own come. His back arches  fully,  shoulders pulling towards Sam as he shudders through his orgasm, and he’s spasming so hard around Sam that the younger has to squeeze himself at the base to keep from coming too – there’s no way he’s going to let it end right here.

He makes to cover his face as Sam flips him over, still wedged inside that tight heat, but of course the other doesn’t let him, wants to see how he’s taking Dean apart. His brother is a panting, needy mess, sticky-white across his abdomen and thighs, last bursts steadily dripping down his still-hard cock. Sam runs a hand over the planes of Dean’s body, dirtying his fingers up with his brother’s come before bringing them to his mouth and suckling.

“Tastes good, Dean,” Sam says, and though his words have a hint of humor his voice does not, low and rough in a way that makes Dean  _leak_  despite having come just moments ago. The younger resumes thrusting, then, pulling Dean off the ground with one leg over each arm until his brother is held up only by the brutal force slamming him against the wall over and over and over again.  
Dean forgets trying to stay quiet, moaning Sam’s name shamelessly with nearly every thrust deep inside his ass. He doesn’t mind if they get caught anymore – almost welcomes it, even, wants people to know that his brother is finally all his. It’s not exactly what he expected since he’d always pictured Sammy on the receiving end in his fantasies, but it didn’t matter, not when Dean was getting it this good.

Sam groans as a particularly hard thrust to Dean’s prostate is rewarded with a scream. The elder sibling moves to bite hard into the side of his neck. Hands come to wrap around Sam’s broad frame as his older brother marks him, sucking against his pulse hard enough to bruise in between bites all along the warm flesh. He wraps his legs around Sam’s waist, freeing him up to pinch at his nipples, run a hand along his inner thighs.

The obscene sight of Dean’s hole trying drawing his cock deeper inside spurs Sam on, and he quickens his pace, hips pistoning in and out until he too is moaning with reckless abandon- loud, but not loud enough to mask the familiar sound of skin on skin or to drown out the needy whines of his older brother.

“ _Shit,_  Dean, you should see yourself like this, you’re – ah, that’s it – fucking beautiful like this,” he says, voice all strung out. He adjusts his position, manhandling Dean until one leg is hooked over his shoulder as he bends forward to press rough kisses along the other man’s jaw. Sam angles his thrusts straight against the sweet spot inside and Dean rocks back into him as best as he can like this, silently begging for it. “God. So desperate for your little brother’s cock, aren’t you?”  
There’s no way Dean can deny it.

His back scrapes against concrete with each movement but Dean can’t bring himself to care, not when Sam is claiming him like this. “Sammy, you love me like this, taking it so good, don’t you?” He locks gazes with his younger brother, pushing forward to meet his thrusts, and licks his full mouth languidly, pink tongue curling up invitingly. Sam just groans and fucks into him impossibly harder, rhythm breaking into erratic thrusts as he nails Dean’s prostate repeatedly.  He continues pumping his older brother’s cock, thick member slicking up his hand.

Then Dean is drawing his muscles tight around his cock, swallowing him up fully, greedily tugging him deeper inside and Sam  _shatters_  as Dean’s hole sucks him further in. His cock fattens impossibly before he just  _loses it_ , pulsing hotly inside as wave after wave of pleasure sweeps over him. He thrusts through it, come dripping out as he continues valiantly against the will of his over-sensitized body, slamming up against Dean’s prostate until he’s coming too, writhing and gasping his younger brother’s name as he comes to completion under Sam’s ministrations.

Despite his best efforts, Sam’s knees give way, overwhelmed by everything that just happened. He falls to the ground, Dean collapsing atop him, and they’re laughing breathlessly and rolling with each other moments later over the pile of clothes they’d shed earlier.

Neither want to leave, both tangled together and glowing in the aftermath. They were dumb enough to stay like this, rutting with each other like complete animals in public, but they’re not  _total_  idiots, so they clear the scene before they can get arrested for indecency or adultery or whatever, racing half-naked for the Impala.

It feels good, like this, to have each other.There’s no end to the issues the Winchesters have to sort out, but that’ll come in time. Right now, Dean’s there for Sam and Sam for Dean. And giving everything they've got to each other? That's more than enough for them.


End file.
